The Jacket Snatcher

Chapter 7- I'd Rather Sleep Naked

I remember that Brett made me fill out one of those identification cards and put it in one of the pockets, just in case my bag got lost. Mentally, I praise him for thinking responsibly. However, not willing to just sit around and wait for the person with my bag to discover the card and call, I decide to look for an ID card in this bag as well.

As I search through the pockets, I come across boxers (including a pair with Captain America shields and another with little tacos all over), a razor, a toothbrush, and a few other items before stumbling upon a cell phone. A phone? Who packs a phone in their suitcase instead of bringing it with them?

It's off, so I turn it on. Almost immediately, text messages start popping up on the screen. They are all from the same sender, Me US, and most of them read something along the lines of, "please call this number to return my bag." Luckily I can read the messages without needing the password. But of course, I can't dial a number without it. So wanting this fiasco to be over as quickly as possible, I reach for my own phone to dial the number.

Before my fingers can even begin to dial, the stranger's cell phone starts buzzing in my other hand. I look down at the screen and suck in a sharp breath. No freaking way.

Me US flashes across the screen, accompanied with a picture of a blond haired, blue-eyed boy sticking his tongue out. There's no mistaking that the picture is of Luke. He must be calling from his phone with a U.S. provider, while I am holding the one for Australia or something. I swipe to answer the call and put it to my ear.

"Hello?" I answer, still in shock.

"Yes, hello? Who is this? You have my bag." After listening to it for most of the day, I would have recognized the voice as Luke's, even without seeing the picture.

"I know. I was just about to call you."

"Look, sorry about the mix up. Where are you? I can come to you to pick it up."

"Wait, you have my bag, right?" I ask.

He chuckles. "Is it big and blue and full of women's clothing?"

"That's the one," I agree.

"Then, yes. I have it, so we can swap. And don't worry, I didn't look through it or anything," Luke explains, coming off almost a little bit charming. I'm confused as to why he's not acting like a cocky tool like before until I realize that he doesn't actually know that it's me. I wonder if he's putting on the charm in hopes that this stranger with his bag won't mess with his stuff or if maybe I just bring out the jerk side of him.

"...So does that work?" His voice draws me out of my thoughts.

"I'm sorry, what?"

He chuckles again. "Can you send me the address of where you are?"

"Yeah, I'll do that."

He recites the number for me to text as I type it into my own phone. I send the message and wait for a moment until he says he got it.

"Oh, sweet. You're not far. Be there in like ten minutes," Luke says.

With that, we hang up and I start re-zipping his bag to take it down to the lobby. I might have been sleepy before, but this whole event has woken me up. I stand with the bag at my hip, impatiently tapping my toe against the marbled floors of the lobby.

After what seems like an hour instead of ten minutes, I see Luke approach through the glass doors. He walks in, Jerry in tow, and looks around. When his eyes meet mine, and then travel down to the suitcase at my hip, he first looks surprised and then endlessly amused. He walks up to me, a smirk on his face.